


365 days

by angelmorph



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Amputation, Anal Sex, Begging, Blood and Torture, Bondage, Bone-breaking, Branding, Burning, Chains, Contortion, Cruciatus, Dildos, Double Penetration, Enemas, Epilation, F/M, Live organ removal/mutilation, M/M, Magically induced masochism, Medical Torture, Mutilation, Non-Consensual, Non-Consensual Bondage, Non-Consensual Oral Sex, Oral Sex, Psychological Torture, Rape, Rough Oral Sex, Scalping, Torture, Whipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-01-07
Updated: 2010-09-25
Packaged: 2019-02-26 16:12:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13239357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelmorph/pseuds/angelmorph
Summary: A nameless victim finds himself in the hands of the Lestranges. Set during the first war.





	1. Day 1

> _**HE-WHO-MUST-NOT-BE-NAMED WRECKS HAVOCK IN DEVON**_  
>    
>  _Obliviators in Devon have their hands full in the wake of an attack by You-Know-Who and his followers, which has left 65 muggles dead. At last report, one body is still unaccounted for..._  
> 

  
**Day 1 - October 29th 1981**  
  
He woke up bruised and broken to the sight of a sadistically grinning dark haired woman with an evil glint in her eyes. He tried to trash around but doing so sent waves of pain down his arms and legs so he stopped and instead attempted to take in his surroundings. Though the angle at which she stood above him suggested that he was lying down, the strain on his ankles and wrists and glimpse at the ceiling, which showed his reflection, proved otherwise. He hung stark naked from his arms and legs, chains attached around his ankles and wrists all that held him in place. The entire room appeared to be made of mirror and everywhere he turned his eyes he caught sight of either his bloodied body or the crazy grinning lady standing over him.  
  
A deep sense of panic began to rise from within him as he tried to remember how he'd gotten there. Finally, the woman spoke, "I trust you slept well,"her tone suggesting the exact opposite, "I just got the most marvellous news and I had to share it with you...My Master has awarded you to my husband and I as an anniversary present; he was even kind enough to cast some wonderful spells on you so that you'd last longer. Wouldn't want you to die in the middle of our fun and games now would we?"  
  
The idea of being this woman's toy was bad enough, to add to that the suggestion that he would live beyond the time at which his body would normally give out was nearly impossible to fathom. A new level of panic made his heart grind on his ribs. How?  
  
She let out a sigh, "The things he can do... I mean, I can manage a continuous blood-replenishing spell and perhaps set the wards to give you a jolt of pain every time you begin to pass out during a session, but Master... He's got the wards set with a nourishing spell, the jolts to keep you awake, the blood replenishing spell, plus he's cursed you to keep your heart beating and your lungs breathing regardless of what we do to you. He's even warded your sensory nerves and your skin so we don't have to worry about cutting off the pain or tearing you from your chains," she paused for effect before adding, "I fixed up the room myself though. Do you like the mirrors?"  
  
He just stared at her, not thinking that she expected a response. He had given up on screaming quite a while back, even before he had been knocked out and captured; no matter how loud he screamed no sound seemed to issue forth from his mouth.  
  
Suddenly, she whipped a short wooden stick from her robes -robes like those the men who had attacked him the night before had worn. She pointed it at him, yelling " _Crucio!!,_ " and he convulsed in pain, screaming silently as every nerve in his body fired off as if on fire.  
  
Finally she lowered it and the pain faded. Her eyes burned, "Answer me fool!"  
  
This time he opened his mouth to respond but as with his attempts to scream no sound came out.  
  
"Arrggg," she stamped her feet in frustration, like a spoiled child, "When I get my hands on the fool that silenced my toy..." She pointed the stick at him again, but this time the pain didn't come, "Now answer me, vermin!"  
  
His voice hoarse from his silent screams, he managed to croak, "Yes."  
  
"Yes, they are lovely..." she continued wistfully, as if she hadn't just interrupted her speech to torture someone, "and they won't smudge or get stained with blood while we play...And the chains... real beauties, they'll stay perfectly polished too..."  
  
Her attention had seemed to wander but suddenly she jerked back to attention. "Where was I? Oh yes, there's just one thing left to be taken care of before we can play. Master thought I'd enjoy doing it my self. This is a beautiful little curse, quite fun really..." She raised her stick once more, and muttered something in Latin.  
  
Despite himself, he cried out in pain. This time it was only his eyes that hurt. He tried to blink away the pain but he couldn't, it was then that he felt the blood trickling down his face. A glance at the mirror above him showed that his eyelids had been torn clear off; blood flowed from the wounds, miraculously avoiding his eyes.  
  
The sight of it caused him to scream once more, this time in fright rather than in pain. He screamed until he felt he could scream no more. And she just stood there watching. Watching and smiling...  
  
"You've wasted most of the afternoon screaming but I think we have time for one little game before I leave. It'll make your game with Rodolphus tonight so much more fun."He had thought he was all screamed out, that he had no fight left in him, but within moments of her raising her stick a murmuring some unintelligible words, welts began to appear on his skin, and he began to trash about again -despite the pain it caused in his arms and legs; the screams followed shortly.  
  
While his screams didn't seem to bother her, his trashing caused her to stop momentarily in exasperation, "Stop squirming, you stupid Muggle, you're messing up the design!" She then pointed the stick at him once more but instead of more brands appearing, he suddenly lost his ability to move. It didn't however prevent him from screaming, which he did when she resumed her branding of his skin: an intricate design of welts that covered his entire body, both back and front.  
  
She had just finished with his face, when the chains that held him began to shake and jump up and down the mirrored wall -as if of their own accord. With a sigh, his torturer pocketed her wand, "I suppose it's only fair I allow Roddie his turn. I'll see you tomorrow." With that farewell, she exited through an opening that had suddenly appeared in one of the side mirrors.  
  
The shaking became more violent and the sliding movements of the chains began to take on a direction: those to his right sliding downwards, and those to the left upwards towards the ceiling. The shaking and rotating continued until he found himself hanging prone, his wrists pulled up slightly higher than his ankles and his legs only shoulder width apart, attached on the back wall rather than the corners as they had been.

* * *

He didn't have to wait long before a man entered through the mirror the woman had used to leave, his face splitting into a grin at the sight of the welts his wife had left behind on their toy. "Oh boy, this is going to be fun."  
  
His helpless victim braced himself for the expected brandishing of the newcomer's wand. But it didn't come.  
  
Instead he pulled out a leather whip, let down his black robes and straddled his toy's hanging legs. This action incited a hoarse scream as he sat on the welts on his victim's upper leg and another as his full weight caused his shoulders to be pulled from their sockets. The chains had adjusted themselves at just the right height so that his legs didn't touch the ground. Despite his weight, the skin didn't tear, the protective spells interfering with the shredding effect such forces would normally have.  
  
Leaning forwards onto the welt covered back, he brought his legs up as well to kneel on the legs still immobilized by his wife's spell. All the while his victim continued to scream, now almost positive he knew what was about to happen to him. Still he was unprepared for the searing pain the first time the whip hit his already branded back or for the pain that accompanied the thrust of the wizard's cock as it forced it's way into his anus.  
  
The two actions continued in synchrony for what seemed an eternity, the wizard's stamina never giving out, as he moaned in pleasure with every trust coming several times before the shaking began once more.  
  
He descended, re-robed and left the way he had come. The shaking continued but the hanging Muggle hardly noticed, having passed out from the pain the moment the session had ended and the wards had allowed it.


	2. Day 2

> __**_No survivors in the wake of another attack by HE-WHO-MUST-NOT-BE-NAMED_** __  
>   
>  Death Eaters attacked a small wizarding community off the coast last night, leaving behind nothing but corpses and the glow of the Dark Mark...  
> 

**Day 2 - October 30th 1981**

A jolting pain radiating through all his nerves awoke him the next morning. And, though the electric pain faded immediately when he awoke, the other pains did not: his missing eyelids, the welts on his body, his bloodied back, his torn anus...The sight that greeted him, in the mirror above, brought the memories of the previous day back with a vengeance and, combined with the pain, caused him to whimper piteously.

His state of mind was not helped by the sight of the crazy woman who had branded him, looming over him with that scary grin on her face. "Good morning," she greeted, as if they were good friends, "I've got a wonderful game planned for today... See, I've noticed you have a few body parts that you really won't be needing anymore, so... I thought we'd get rid of them. What do you say?"

He just stared at her. Did she expect him to answer that question? Apparently she did because, in response to his blank stares and whimpers, she pointed her wand at him and shouted, " _Crucio._ "

This time she held it there longer, savouring his screams, then asked again,"What do you say?"

"Please no! I need..."

She cut him off with another round of the curse, "Wrong answer. Try again. What do you say?"

"That sounds like a good idea," he croaked.

"Much better, I thought we'd start with the fingers, and then the toes...though we should probably break the bones first, so that you can feel it better..." She paused as though deep in thought, "Yes, yes that's what we'll do. I know just the right curse."

She approached him so that her wand was pointed straight at his thumb on the right hand and began to say the spell, when she stopped suddenly, "Oh but wait, I almost forgot. We'll need to remove the nails first. They'll only get in the way."

One finger at a time, she tore each nail off with a spell, before proceeding to the toes.. The blood flowed freely from the wounds but she stayed clear of it.

Finally, his nails all gone, she returned her attention to the bones of the fingers and toes, breaking each of the seventy-six of them one at a time before shaking them up and then tearing them off one by one.

Unlike the removal of his eyelids or even that of his nails, with each digit that was torn away it felt as though someone were actually pulling them off, squeezing the broken bone fragments into the surrounding tissue and multiplying the pain. But she didn't touch him. Not like her husband who...

Once all the digits were removed, she cast a spell to seal the wounds, though it was clearly not out of mercy. He felt a new wave of pain as a single spell crushed the remaining bones of his right hand, and another at what felt like someone reshaping his hand into a flat plate perpendicular to his arm, the skin stretching and changing shape to accommodate it. "We don't want your chains falling off," she explained, as if she were doing him a favour, before repeating the procedure with on his other hand and on his feet.

Until then the chains had remained firmly in place around his wrists and ankles but the minute she finished, their hold loosened and the entire weight of his body came to rest on his shattered hands and feet.

She responded to his resulting screams with a malicious grin before announcing that she'd had enough of that game and now had an idea for another. Then without warning, he felt every hair on his head get pulled off in a single yank, the scalp coming along with it.

"You do look much better bald, just like I suspected. But I really think we should do something about the rest of your hair before I leave. Roddie says it disgusts him and gets in the way of what he'd like to with you." That said, he felt another painful yank as his body hair, patches of skin along with it, was pulled out. Only his facial hair, pubic and anal hair remained.

He had only a moment to wonder why she had left them behind when another spell directed at his face caused all his facial hair to catch on fire. Two more spells were cast in quick succession at the two remaining patches of hair on his body.

And then she left, the fires burning themselves out just as the chains began to rattle once more. This time however, although still face down, he found himself with his feet dangling from the ceiling, the chains and his wrists hanging limply. Suddenly, a new band of metal, like that at his wrists and ankles, wound itself around his abdomen and two chains snaked from it, one attaching itself to the floor in each of the rear corners of the room. Once attached, they began to shorten, forcing his back into a right angle and crushing several vertebrae in the process.

* * *

And then the crazy woman's perverted husband entered. This time, though he still shed his clothes immediately, he kept his wand with him and rather than mount his victim he knelt on the floor behind the contorted screaming Muggle and took hold of the recently depilated cock in his calloused hands, rubbing it roughly, "Much better," he commented before muttering something unintelligible and placing it in his mouth and sucking, aggravating the painful boils that had formed with the burning. His teeth ground against the sensitive skin of his victim's cock causing him to yell out in pain, each suck increasing the intensity. Yet despite, or perhaps because of, the pain he felt himself getting hard and yearning for release.  
  
Suddenly, the wizard bit down hard and withdrew, "Wonderful spell, don't you think? It's turned you into something of a masochist except you won't get any pleasure or release from the pain. Your body craves the pain but your mind reacts as it normally would."  
  
He ran his tongue along the new burns, until he reached the buttocks. "You'll be begging me for more and begging me to stop all at once by the time I'm done tonight." He cast a spell which rapidly jerked the Muggle into the position he had found him in the day before, then called his whip to him and mounted, repeating his actions of the previous night, to the sound of his victim's cries for more intermingled with his pleas to stop, stopping only when his time ran out.


	3. Day 3

>  
> 
> _**_Annual Hogsmeade Halloween feast cancelled_**  
>    
>  Organizers of Hogmeade's annual Halloween Feast announced that they will be cancelling this year's festivities given increasing fear of attack by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and decreased attendance in recent years ..._

 

**Day 3 - October 31st, 1981**

The jolt of pain that woke him the next morning had a curious effect on him. It was just as painful as it had been the morning before but the results of the curse Rodolphus had used the night before lingered, causing his gonads to stir in reaction to the pain.

The crazy woman, whose name he still didn't know, recognized the effects at once. She grinned manically as she exclaimed, "Oh! Roddie used _Cravus Dolorum_ on you! And he didn't tell me... Tell me toy, how are you enjoying the masochist spell?"

By now he knew that an answer was expected. Problem was he didn't know which answer she wanted: did she want him to agree with her that it was a wonderful spell and that he was enjoying the effects, or was she looking for confirmation that their torture was having the desired effect and that he hated what they were doing to him?

Knowledge that the wrong answer would result in just as much pain as none at all left him paralyzed and unable to answer. By the time he opened his mouth to respond, her patience had run out. Pain seared through him as she intoned, " _Crucio_ ," and he found himself torn between mental anguish and a physical desire for more.

Finally, she cancelled the curse, commenting as she did, "Well, I guess that answers my question, toy. You're hard with desire for more. You're enjoying, this aren't you, toy? You want to be tortured more, don't you?"

Now he knew which answer was expected. She wanted him to say yes, wanted him to agree. If he did, she'd stop using that terrible curse on him. He opened his mouth to say it but the lies didn't spew forth. Instead the words that tumbled out were, "No, you sadistic bitch! I'm not enjoying it!" The response was instantaneous. No sooner than the last word left his mouth he found himself, once more, convulsing in pain.

The next time she asked, all reluctance to lie had been squelched by an overwhelming desire to prevent further agony. But she didn't stop when he responded that he did indeed enjoy what she and her husband had done to him. Instead, she grinned and ordered, "Beg me for more."

Trapped. If he didn't obey her, she'd torture him. If he did, she'd curse him like he asked. So he said nothing, if the end result would be the same, at least he could hang on to the dignity of not asking for it.

"Beg me for it," she repeated,"or I'll break every bone left in your body, the chains shall shake for the next twenty-four hours and you shan't be permitted to sleep tonight." As if to add incentive, the chains began to shake, provoking another scream at the unanticipated pain.

He wavered, perhaps begging for another round of the curse was better than the alternative. Still, a tiny voice in the recesses of his mind argued against begging: _She's probably planning on doing it anyways; don't give her the satisfaction_. It wasn't enough to tip the balance. Given the option of that outcome being certain versus probable... The words tumbled out of his mouth, "Please..."

"Please, what?"

"Please curse me again, please use the curse that feels like having screws driven into my bones while being lit on fire, please."

"Interesting description...I really should try that on you; we can see if the sensation compares..." He shuddered in response to the threat."The curse is called _Cruciatus_ , Muggle. Now beg properly; my patience wears thin."

"Please cast _Crus-Cru-ciatus,"_ he stumbled over the word but continued, "on me." When his first request garnered no response he repeated it, "Please cast _Cruciatus_ on me. I beg you. I beg you, _please_." Still no reaction; she continued to stand there wand poised. The chains continued to shake -more violently that when the crazy woman had first ordered him to beg.

He tried again, "I beg you, please cast _Cruciatus_ on me. I enjoy it. I crave it. Please, Mistress. Ple-aaahhhhhhh." Anything else he might have said, faded away as his world erupted in pain.

Then as suddenly as it'd begun, she abruptly cut off the curse and, commented, "That's enough of that for today. You've so many bones left to break, I don't want to run out of time..."Then -with no further warning -she targeted his left leg -right above the ankle-with the same spell she'd used on his fingers and toes. But the pain was incomparably more intense than that of his toes breaking. The chains were still shaking and the weight of his body, supported only by his mangled hands and feet, caused the broken tibia to pierce through the surrounding muscle. It would have pierced the skin as well, if the spells preserving him hadn't prevented it...

The pain only got worse as the fibula, unable to hold his weight without the tibia for support broke, without her having to utter a single spell. She then repeated her actions with the right leg, increasing the weight supported by broken bones. The left forearm was the next victim; a single spell cutting clear through the radius and ulna, before she moved on to the right. From there she returned to the left leg and targeted the bone three inches more proximally than the previous break, systematically working her way up his arms and legs. When not a single bone fragment, more than three inches long, remained in his limbs she targeted his ribs and vertebrae.

Only when they'd all been broken did she pause to examine her work. "Exquisite, no more annoying bones to interfere with positioning... There's just one last thing Roddie asked me to do for him. He's enraptured with your mouth but afraid you'll bite him so he asked me to get rid of the teeth for him. You don't need your teeth anyway do you, toy?"

His response -given all the screaming he'd already done -was just a coarse whisper aimed at placating her,"No." So he wasn't expecting to be subjected to another bout of _Cruciatus_.

"I do believe we already established that you are to refer to me as Mistress. So I ask you again: You don't need your teeth anyway do you, toy?"

"No, Mistress," he corrected.

"Exactly, which is why I have no qualms in removing them for you. This shouldn't hurt too much. I understand Muggles frequently have their teeth pulled out without the benefits of a numbing charm." What she neglected to mention -and he didn't feel inclined to point out, for fear of being subjected to another round of _Cruciatus_ -was that said individuals made use of anaesthetics so as not to feel the pain and that no sane person would have all their teeth removed in one shot. Though to be perfectly fair, she didn't remove them all in one shot either. She pulled them out one by one and gave him plenty of time to scream between teeth.

Once she'd gotten them all-including his four wisdom teeth, which had been impacted -she directed her wand to the joint line between the mandible and the maxilla, on the right and intoned a spell that pulverized the bone in the area before repeating the spell on the left. "I do apologize for interfering with your ability your scream, toy, but I couldn't have you slamming your jaw shut while my Roddie enjoys your mouth."

The chains, which had been shaking since her earlier threat, began to shift noticeably. The crazy woman turned to leave, "Shouldn't be too long now... See you tomorrow..."

By the time the mirror closed behind her, the chains binding his feet were positioned directly above him and those attached to his hand had reached the junction between the wall and ceiling. As it had the day before, a metal band formed around his abdomen-just below what remained of his rib cage-and two chains snaked away from it. This time, however, they attached themselves to the corner where the chains for his feet had been minutes before as the latter continued to move cephalically. His feet were the last to stop moving, coming to a stop only as they reached the junction between the wall behind him and the floor, the final position reminiscent of a human sandwich.

* * *

  
As soon as the chains stopped moving -and they did stop shaking, despite the witch's threat to keep them going for a full day -her no less sadistic husband entered and shed his clothes. Taking his whip with him, he sat himself squarely on his victim's face, inserting his member into the toothless mouth in the process. As he shifted to find the best position he instructed, "Feel free to scream as much as you like. I like the vibration," before brandishing his whip and bringing it down on his victim's exposed bottom, "And don't just lie there and take it. Suck. The more times I come down your throat, the fewer I'll come up your ass and you really don't want me up your ass tonight. If you thought it hurt last time..." That particular warning was punctuated with a solid hit of the whip straight down his ass-crack.  
  
His best efforts were not enough to spare him anal penetration before the night was through and he was finally permitted to pass out.


	4. Day 4

 

> **_HE-WHO-MUST-NOT-BE-NAMED Dead?_ **
> 
> _Reliable sources have confirmed that You-Know-Who was defeated last night. The details of his defeat have not been released, though rumours abound (for a list of some of the more popular theories, see page 2)..._
> 
> _Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge offered no comment on the matter, however a witness who prefers to remain anonymous spotted him in his office "celebrating" with his personal assistant (for all the juicy details, see page 4)...._
> 
> _Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts, and the only wizard He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named ever feared, could not be reached for comment..._

 

**Day 4 - November 1st 1981**

He awoke, once more, to a mix of pain and arousal and to the sadist grin of his female tormentor.

"Good morning!" she quipped, "I trust you and Roddie had a splendid time last night, without all those pesky bones in the way of ideal positioning."

He didn't think her inane greeting merited a response, but the she evidently expected one, since a moment later he was treated to a dose of _Cruciatus_ , which sent his tortured body into spasms and his nerves on fire.

"I expect a response when I deign to address you, _Muggle_. Now let's try that again: Good morning! I trust you and Roddie had a splendid time last night, without all those pesky bones in the way of ideal positioning."

"Yes, Mistress," he managed to gasp, in the aftermath of the curse. His response failed to satisfy, for a moment later he found himself once more under the curse's effect.

"Wrong! The proper response to 'Good morning' is 'Good morning, Mistress'. Now, let's try again; my patience grows thin. Good morning! I trust you and Roddie had a splendid time last night, without all those pesky bones in the way of ideal positioning."

"Good morning, Mistress. Yes, Mistress."

She raised her wand to cast the spell again, "'Yes what? Hasn't anyone ever taught you the proper way to answer a question?"

This time she held the spell a full minute and he was left gasping just as long, trying to obey her command. Finally he managed to respond, "Go-good ...mmm-morning, Mistress. Yes, Mistress, we had asp-splendid time."

His response seemed to satisfy, as she didn't immediately renew the curse and instead launched into describing the day's itinerary, "Since we've already taken care of all your unnecessary bones, I thought we'd move on to your organs today. You need your heart and lungs of course, and Roddie likes it when his toys have a fully functional reproductive system. He also asked that I keep your digestive track intact for an extra special treat, but everything else is fair game... so let's see... there's the liver, gallbladder, pancreas, spleen, kidneys, bladder -I've got special plans for them... Do you want to see them?"

He started to shake his head in sheer terror but stopped himself in fear of her renewing the _Cruciatus_. Despite his best efforts, a moan escaped before he clamped down on the instinct and he braced himself against the anticipated curse.

Sure enough, she raised her wand to utter a spell, but while painful enough to cause him to scream in agony and elicit a stirring in his groin, it was not the one he expected. Instead of convulsing in spasms, he found himself staring at his exposed organs, with the skin and muscle of his thorax and abdomen -and quite a few embedded bone fragments-hanging in flaps on either side of his chest.

"Lovely sight isn't it? The lungs up here, and the intestines down there, hide just about everything else, but I'll take care of that in a moment. First there's the little problem of organs being insensate to pain to solve. True, some do feel pain once they've been sensitized to it and yours probably have with all the fun we've been having lately but you can't begrudge me wanting to enhance the experience. I have the perfect spell for it too. It should create new pain sensors and allow you to really appreciate the feeling of having your guts ripped out of you and your organs squeezed and cut and torn, and... _Generonervus excrucio_!"

Any continuation of her speech that followed the curse fell on deaf ears as he writhed and cried out in agony at the unexpected increase in pain in his midsection. One moment there was acute pain only where his spine and rib fragments had embedded in the surrounding muscle -less than it had been the previous day when the injuries were fresh and his bindings had been shaking, -and a dull nagging pain where they had embedded elsewhere. The next moment his entire torso was alight with burning pain as the sensation in his organs sharpened and he became aware of every fragment that had found purchase in soft tissue.

She waited patiently -like a parent waiting out a child's temper tantrum -for his screaming to subside, before casting a second spell, which yanked his large intestine from his abdomen but failed to sever it from the rest of the digestive track. The small intestine followed in it's wake, roughly yanked a piece at a time until all 20 feet of it hung outside his body and the mesentery behind it lay exposed.

"Now, the kidneys are still rather well hidden, and we still can't see the pancreas with the stomach in the way but this view is much improved. How about we play a game, /Muggle/? Every organ you can correctly identify, I let you keep: intact."

He tried. He honestly tried. How could he not, with an incentive like that? Even if he wasn't entirely sure he believed her... But, he had no medical background, was in a state of constant agony from be tortured for the past four days, and was being forced to stare at his own bloody organs, literally. So, in the end, the best answer he could come up with, hoping to stave off her anger was, "I'm sorry, Mistress, but I'm afraid I can't identify any of them, Mistress."

"Of course, you can't. After all, you are just a _stupid muggle_ , good for nothing but screaming and begging... Now then, how about we start with the liver... Normally, you wouldn't live very long without one but Master's spells circumvent that little problem... and I thought I'd take advantage of one of its natural functions to destroy both it and the gallbladder in one shot..."

She briefly interrupted her monologue to mumble a spell he couldn't make out, and he was surprised not to find himself in renewed acute agony.

"Don't look so disappointed, _Muggle_ , sometimes you have to let things build up in order to truly enjoy an experience. The spell I just cast was to increase your liver's production of bile and block its flow into the intestines, allowing it to build up in the liver and gallbladder. The next spell will transform the bile into a substance that, instead of aiding in the digestion of fat, will digest the liver itself."

Sure enough, the next curse, brought with it anew wave of agony as the freshly sensitized liver began to digest itself, without losing any of it's sensitivity to pain during the process. Only once the liver had been completely consumed, did the pain begin to fade. His respite was brief, however, as his pancreas soon suffered a similar fate.

His spleen was the next to go; a single spell caused it to explode, splattering it's stored blood everywhere, and a maniacal grin to appear on her face, "Oh, I do love explosions, 'bout the only thing _muggle_ blood is good for is exploding..." Her grin turned to giggles, and the giggles into full-blown cackling.

Finally, she regained her composure, "Now then, where was I? Ah yes, the kidneys... Tell me, _dear_ , have you ever had a kidney stone?"

"No, Mistress," he replied having learnt that no question was rhetorical as far as the crazy witch was concerned.

"What a shame; I hear they're really painful. We'll just have to rectify that problem, won't we? How would you like to have some kidney stones? Only it'll have to be more than one... what would you say to one for each of your four-dozen minor calices? And not the puny ones, the big ones? And we'll make them extra sharp?"

He might not know what calices were, but he did know he didn't want forty-eight kidney stones, "No, Mistress, please Mistress, not that many, Mistress."

"You're right, for once... Forty-eight is simply not enough... Better make it one for every papillary duct... yes that'll work... lets say we can start at two hundredths of an inch, only twice the diameter of the duct, and work our way up to half an inch by the time we hit the ureter, only four times it's diameter, and then they can keep growing in the bladder, which can hold about a quart before it starts to tear. Of course, you'll be burning to piss long before it starts to tear..."

This time the spell she cast was more than a few words long and he had what felt like an eternity, but was not quite a minute, to contemplate the torment she had just described. The next moment all thought escaped him as hundreds, if not thousands, of stone spikes appeared simultaneously in the tiny ducts of his kidneys. The pain radiated downward towards his bladder, though the stones had yet to move, escalating in intensity as they began to grow.

Just as he began to feel that the pain could get no worse, it did, as a single mumbled spell caused the stones to travel through the narrow ducts, through the wider (but still too narrow) calices, through the thin ureter and into the bladder. Their size was such that no natural force would have expelled them, and their sharp spikes tore at the sensitized tissue along the way, shredding the walls of the ducts.

As the stones began to accumulate in his bladder, a different kind of pain added itself to the mix. The urge to pee grew, and grew until it too became unbearable, and soon his bladder itself started to tear in his body's futile attempt to alleviate the pressure. But there was to be no reprieve, even in that manner, for at the first sign of tearing another spell froze the stones and their current size and stopped their flow.

And then she waited. She waited nearly a half hour before his screams of pain faded to a whimpering that she could hear herself over, "Normally I'd have you pass them all the way, but Rhoddie asked that I keep your prick functional for his pleasure... and, it's probably actually more painful this way, especially with the next item on our agenda for today... But first, we'll have to sew you back up. Otherwise, it won't be nearly painful enough."

Sure enough, the next spell she uttered sent his intestines back into their places, and sealed the overlying skin and muscle back to together, increasing the strain on his painfully full bladder, "Now, then, tell me, /Muggle/, have you ever had an enema?"

He was saved from having to answer by the shaking of his chains that indicated the end of her part in that day's torment. "Darn! out of time... Now, we'll have to wait till tomorrow to finish up... Roddie is going to be so disappointed; guess he'll have to take it out on you..."

As the shaking of the chains increased so did the pain in his abdomen, so strong that he noticed neither her departure nor the arrival of her husband, through the pain.

* * *

When he next came to his senses the shaking had stopped and he found himself stretched upside-down, staring straight at his evening tormentor's exposed penis.

"Good evening my little fuck-toy. Hard for me already, aren't you? Desperate for me to stick my dick in that mouth and ass of yours?"

While it was certainly true that he was hard (how could he not be with the combination of the spell that pervert had cast on him two nights earlier and the torture he'd been subjected to since waking?), the only thing he was desperate for was an end to the torture not a continuation of it. So instead of the answer the pervert wanted, he begged, "No, sir, please don't, sir."

Unfortunately, he soon found out that the sadistic pervert was just as cruel as his wife in extracting the answers he wanted. The only difference was that he wielded his whip instead of his wand.

It took only two blows to pull the desired lies from the lips of his victim, "Please sir, I'm hard for you sir, please stick your cock in me, sir," and a litany of pleas.

Finally, after ten blows, there came a pause, :"Of course you want me in you...And, I have quite the treat for you tonight... Yesterday, I fucked you one hole at a time, and while certainly enjoyable, I'd very much like to experience the sensation of fucking both your mouth and your ass-hole at the same time."

He grinned sadistically, "Since I can't very well be in two place at once, I brought along a little toy."

That was all the warning the prisoner got before a lifelike dildo was shoved unceremoniously up his ass. More surprising than the suddenly renewed pain (which he'd come to expect) in his already abused rectum, was his tormentor's coinciding moan of pleasure.

"It's a perfect replica of my own penis, Muggle. I feel it as I do the original, and it'll mirror all my actions... That way I can fuck both your holes at once...

"But first, I think a little punishment is in order... Did you think that I wouldn't notice that you weren't properly prepared for me?"

His prisoner shook his head in fear, "Did you think that just because your abdomen is distended from Bella's other games I wouldn't notice that you hadn't had your enema? Did you think that by spending all your time screaming and slowing down Bella's work, you'd get away scot-free? This requires special punishment."

The shaking increased, "Please, sir. I didn't mean to, sir. Please. Fuck me, sir, I'm hard for you, sir".

"Perhaps, you think I'm less strict and demanding than my wife...that I'm have mercy. Well I WON'T. I'm tired of being treated as the lesser of the two. Enough that I get it from my Lord. I will not abide it from my prisoners. Your begging will be rewarded with extra blows. In fact every word you say, unless I specifically ask you to speak... or rather... even if I ask you to speak, will be rewarded with extra blows. Understand?"

His prisoner nodded vigorously.

"I ASKED YOU A QUESTION!! UNDERSTAND?"

"Yes," was the meek reply.

"You will address me as Sir. Two extra blows: one for speaking and one for your impertinence. Let's try again. Understand?"

"Yes, sir," the response was practically a whisper.

"Speak up, filth. I can't hear you."

"YES, SIR," this time the response was as much of a yell as four days worth of screaming would allow.

"Much better. That'll be another four blows. I believe we're up to twenty-two extra on top of the hundred I already had planned, and don't think the delay means you'll get less fucking. The preliminaries will only make me want you more."

He laid down the whip he'd used earlier and pulled another from inside his cloak. This one had several tails instead of the one, each embedded with little bits of glass a weighted with lead tips.

The first blow struck without warning across the marks of the earlier beating. It was followed closely by a second blow, slightly lower on his abdomen. The blows kept coming in a torrent that never seemed to let up, hitting a different location each time until not a single square inch of him had been spared, not even his face.

By the time the blows finally stopped, the prisoner had long lost count but it had to be well over two hundred strikes, for despite the consequences he couldn't keep himself from crying out and begging nonsensically.

He was permitted no respite, however, for moments after the last blow has fallen, his tormentor embedded his already erect phallus in his mouth (without even taking the time to disrobe) and began to thrust, the dildo mirroring every move.

Seconds later, a new sensation added itself to the mix. His rapist had taken hold of his own treacherously hard member and bitten down on it, so hard that it would have surely torn off had the skin not been reinforced against tearing.

With each new thrust came another vicious bite, until finally sated (multiple times) the sadist extracted himself, collected his whip and left the room, leaving the dildo behind and his victim passed out from pain and exhaustion.


	5. Day 5

> **__Death-Eaters ARRESTED_ _**
> 
> __
> 
> __
> 
> _Several raids have resulted in the arrests of wizards suspected to be followers of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, in the wake of his surprising defeat two days ago at the hands of fifteen-month old Harry Potter. No word yet on when the lengthy trial process is set to begin..._

 

**Day 5 - November 2nd 1981**

The jolting of the chains that woke him the next morning was accompanied by a change in his position, a first for his morning sessions...

He ended up with his left arm chained to the bottom-left-hand corner, his right arm chained to the upper-right-hand corner, his left leg to the wall behind him and his right squeezed tight against his chest and bloated abdomen, one chain where his knee once was and the other at the remnants of his ankle.

Staring down at him was the female tormentor. "Good morning, filth. How do you like the new position?"

Despite the considerable pain he was in, he managed to reply, "Good morning, Mistress. It's a very nice position Mistress."

It was the right answer, certainly, but since she was searching for an excuse to use Cruciatus on him, she managed to find one anyways.

Once the outright screaming had stopped and the whimpering began to wane, she commented, "What kind of answer is that? I know Muggles have very little in the way of brains but do try to put a little more thought into your answer. What do you like about it, mudbrain?"

Since, the truth was he hated the position, his right leg put extremely painful pressure on the jagged contents of his bladder, and his weight was being supported by two battered limbs (his left foot and right hand) instead of four, it was a scramble to come up with an answer. All he could come up with was, "It's nice to have a different view of the room, Mistress"

The fact that she found the answer lacking was evident in her renewal of the torture curse. "That was almost as dim as your first answer. Your view changes every time you change position. In fact, Rhoddie tells me he has already tried 4 different positions with you. Try again. What do you like about this position?"

"Ummm, it's nice that it relieves pressure on my right ankle?"

That answer seemed to appease her slightly; she's didn't renew _Cruciatus_ , at least. Instead she replied,"Well we can't have that. Now can we?" and with a flick of her wand a heavy weight appeared around said ankle, pulling it downwards as well as increasing the strain on his other limbs, and causing him to cry out in pain.

"Neat little spell I pick up in Russia. That's a one pound kettle-bell. Do you think you need another?"

He was sorely tempted to reply "no" or abstain. However experience had taught him that it would only add to the pain, "Yes, Mistress, I need another. Could I please have another?"

"Certainly. Since you asked so nicely, I shall give you two more, but let's spread them out a little, or they won't all fit. How about one around your neck and another at your knee?"

He would have screamed again, but the breath was knocked out of him by the 35lbs that suddenly hung from a metal collar around his next. Unfortunately, (from his point of view) this failed to kill him, given the spells keeping him alive. It did make breathing more laborious though, and screaming next to impossible.

"Now that that little piece of business is taken care of, back to our talk about your position. It's called the Sims position, though I had to modify it a bit; I wasn't about to let you have a bed... Healers apparently use it for administering enemas, so I thought it was appropriate. You never did answer me yesterday. Tell me, Muggle, have you ever had an enema?"

"No---, Mis---tress--- I've---nev--er--- had--- an--- ene--ma---, Mist---ress. Will--- you--- plee---ease ---give--- me--- one---, Mist---ress." the words came out in gasps.

"Hmmm... so you are capable of learning, mudbrain... though I think I shall have you beg for it, a simple request is hardly sufficient."

"Plee---ease ---, Mist---ress. Plee---ease --- give--- me--- an--- ene---ma. I--- beg--- you---, plee---ease, plee---ease, plee---ease..."

"Beg, me to fill you to the point of bursting."

"Ple---ase--- fill--- me---till--- I--- burst---, Mist---ress, ple---ase."

Her response to the request, was another round of _Cruciatus_.

"Idiot! I said to the point of bursting, if you actually burst we wouldn't be able to play anymore games, now would we? Try again, and do be more creative than mirroring my words back at me."

" Plee---ease ---, Mist---ress. Fill--- me--- with--- liq---uid--- till--- I'm--- rea---dy--- to--- burst---fill--- me--- till--- I--- ca---n't--- take--- any--- more--- fill--- me---till--- there's--- no--- more--- room--- to--- fill--- plee---ease ---, Mist--ress---. I--- beg--- you---, plee---ease ---. I--- beg--- you---plee---ease---, ple---ease..."

For a while, she just stood there and let him ramble, finally she cursed him again, waited out his gasping screams, and shouted, "ENOUGH! Yes, that'll do nicely. First we'll have to tie up your large intestine above the rectum, wouldn't want you leaking on Rhoddie's toy, though I'm not exactly pleased that he left it there... bet that's your fault too..."

" Plee---ease---, Mist---ress---. I--- did--n't--- mean--- to---, Mist---ress."

His begging was cut off by yet another round of _Cruciatus_ , "SILENCE! I didn't ASK you to speak! Now, as I was saying, I think I'm going to have to punish you for neglecting to have Rhoddie remove his toy from you. I just, _know_ he's going to try to interrupt, and you're supposed to be all mine till sunset. The most fitting punishment would be an engorgement charm, but I don't think the Rhoddie would appreciate the backlash so I suppose I'll have to settle for having your chains shake for the rest of today's session."

Although he began to scream, or rather gasp, in response to the chain's renewed jerking, she continued her monologue, "Where was, I? Ah yes, once I've tied off the lower end, I'll have to tie up your oesophagus, below the diaphragm so that your speech won't be further impaired.

Shall, we begin? Unfortunately I can't think of a painful spell to get the job done, you'll likely not feel it at all..."

For a moment he felt nothing new. Then there came a sudden flare in his body-wide pain as she hit him with another round of her signature spell, "Well? I'm still waiting. Shall we begin?"

"Yes---, Mist---ress---. Plee---ease--- tie--- up--- my--- guts---, Mist---ress."

"I suppose that will suffice," The next words out of her mouth were another spell, and, despite her statement to the contrary, he felt a sharp increase in pain, first in his lower gut and then again, a little higher.

She waited until she had his full attention before making a small flask appear with a wave of her wand, "Now comes the fun part, this is a very special potion; Snape developed it especially for this purpose. It'll dissolve all your sphincters so I can fill your entire digestive track without trouble."

He instinctively shut his mouth in response to her description, "Aww... isn't that cute? No point trying to keep your mouth closed, I broke your jaw remember? Besides, it's not like I expect you to swallow it, I sealed off you digestive track, remember? I can tell you're confused, no worries, that's what magic is for."

A barely perceptible wave of her wand later and, he could suddenly feel the potion burning away at tissue from the inside.

He tried to scream, but with his airways constricted and the jerking of the chains, all he could manage was a series of gasps. Finally, the pain died down, as the last of his sphincters dissolved.

"I haven't even started with the fun part yet. This next potion," She gestured to a vat that had appeared beside her, "is far easier to brew, which is how I could acquire so much of it. It'll will burn without doing any damage at all. And I've got more than enough to fill you up to bursting."

And suddenly, he could feel the second potion starting to fill his stomach, the burning just as bad as she'd promised, and it didn't stop in his stomach. The liquid travelled unimpeded through his intestinal track, filling every crevice till long past the point where he felt full.

Slowly his abdomen started to expand and a new pain joined the other as recently tortured organs were crushed by the increasing pressure, and as the bones broken two days before and the stones in his bladder from the previous day, pressed more deeply into his muscles and surrounding tissue.

Such was his pain that he barely heard her next words, "I was planning some needle play for today but the shaking would mess with my aim," she sat on the floor below him, such that she was looking straight at his disfigured and pain wracked face, her expression turning to one of bliss, "so I think I'll just sit here and watch you suffer your punishment. I've got all year to play games with you."

When, hours later, the chains began to shift their position, she reluctantly stood and left the room

* * *

When the shifting of the chains finally ended and the shaking finally stopped, he found himself upside-down, once more staring at his rapist's penis. In fact the only differences between his current position and that of the previous night, were the weights still hanging from his ankle, knee and neck.

He experience a moment of unexpected respite when his current tormentor vanished the weights with a wave of his wand.

His shock must of shown on his face, for his torturer was quick to clarify, "Don't think I did it out of pity; they were in my way and impeding your ability to pleasure me."

He laid a hand on his victim's doubly bloated abdomen. "Though I do believe I'll spend some time enjoying the fruit of Bella's labour before ravaging your mouth. I haven't seen a sight more beautiful since I gave an enema to that pregnant Muggle bitch two months ago... She looked ready to burst too.

What do you say, Muggle. You want me to rape you right away or would you like me torture your beautiful distended belly first?"

"Whichever pleases you more, Sir."

"That's right, I'll do whatever pleases me. How about we do like last night, start with one hundred blows and work our way up every time you speak? and an extra ten each time you refuse to answer a question?"

"Yes, Sir"

"You'll have to do better than that."

"Yes, Sir. That sounds like a plan, Sir."

"Much better, that makes the count one hundred and thirteen."

This time, instead of whip, he pulled a metal paddle covered in spikes, from his cloak," Shall I begin?"

"Yes, Sir. Please begin, Sir"

"One hundred and eighteen."

The first blow landed square in the middle of his distended belly, one could just barely make out the remnants of a belly button at its centre, and sent a renewed wrack of pain through his body. The tenth, which landed in exactly the same spot as the previous nine, had him already begging for mercy.By the time his torturer finally put down the paddle (after 365 blows), to rape him, his belly was no longer recognizable as such but rather a piece of over tenderized meat.


	6. Day 6

> **_Bellatrix Lestrange still at large_ ** _  
> Bellatrix Lestrange, suspected to be a chief enforcer of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, second only to her cousin Sirius Black who was arrested earlier this week, remains at large despite massive efforts by Aurors to apprehend her and her husband ..._

 

**Day 6 – November 3rd 1981**

****

On first glance, the sight that greeted him the next morning appeared to be his female tormentor stark naked. On closer inspection it became apparent that she was clothed in sandpaper, from head to toe.

She was followed closely by her entirely nude husband, his whip conspicuously absent...  
Unlike on preceding mornings, she wasted no time on an enforced exchange of greetings, instead getting straight to the point, "I know I promised you needles today, but unfortunately, no one has seen My Lord in three days... Roddie and I are leading a team to search for him, so we have only enough time for a short shared session. We'll do the needle when I come back."

She wasted no time on explanations, and instead took the time to mount him, sliding down on his perpetually erect penis, in one rapid motion.

It was the first time she touched him, and yet could it really be considered touch if there was no contact whatsoever between her skin and his? Even her cunt was rough as sandpaper; had he been stiff from actual arousal rather than as the result of the spell cast on him, the act of penetrating her would surely have rendered him flaccid.

He had no time to scream however, for her first thrust was followed quickly by the introduction of her husband's penis into his throat cutting off all sound he tried to make.

The dildo, still embedded in his ass, matched their frantic rhythm as the woman ground up and down his increasingly raw penis and her husband pounded into his mouth.

As promised the session was relatively short (though still far too long from the victim's point of view) and within less than an hour both torturers slipped out, leaving their victim alone, yes but also alert and in pain...


	7. Day 7

> **_Death Eaters Claim two More Victims_ **
> 
> __
> 
> __
> 
> _Suspected Death Eaters Bellatrix, Rodolphus & Rabastan Lestrange, as well as Bartemius Crouch Jr. (son of Ministry official Bartemius Crouch Sr.) were arrested yesterday afternoon at the home of Auror Frank Longbotton. Both Auror Longbottom and his wife were found tortured into a state of catatonia and have been transferred to St. Mungo's for treatement..._

 

**Day 7 - November 6th 1981**

Nobody came but still the spells that had been keeping him alive for the past week , that had been keeping him conscious through hours of torture continued to do so. The daily rattling of the chains that held him in place and usually separated the day's torture session from his nightly rape session still came as scheduled. But nobody came that evening either.


	8. Day 365

> **_Ministry prepares for Increased Festivities_** _  
> As the anniversary of the defeat of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named at the hands of the Boy-Who-Lived last Halloween, approaches Ministry Obliviators have been placed on high alert. Already, early partiers have resulted in an increased need for Muggle Obliviation. It is suspected that by the time the festivities..._
>
>> **Day 365 – October 29th 1982**  
>  For a year he’d been hung by his arms and legs in a torture chamber lined in mirrors. For nearly that long he had been alone, kept alive and in pain by wards placed at the time of his capture. His tormentors no longer came but the daily jangling of the chain that pulled at his limbs before ultimately flipping him from one seemingly random position to another was enough to keep him in constant pain and undo most of the healing his body attempted. Sometimes the dildo in his rectum would stir to life at random times, but as the days progressed even that torment grew less frequent.
>> 
>> He had no way of knowing why his tormentors no longer came, no way of knowing that they had been captured and the war won. All he knew was the pain. Sometimes he wondered; wondered where they had gone; wondered why he was still alive. Usually he just bore the pain and wished for death to take him.
>> 
>> At midnight, precisely 365 days after the wards on his cell had been placed, the enchantments finally wore off, and he got his wish…


End file.
